Redeemer and a heavenly home? It is the statement of missionaries, that,
of all races of the earth, none have received the Gospel with such eager
docility as the African. The principle of reliance and unquestioning
faith, which is its foundation, is more a native element in this race
than any other; and it has often been found among them, that a stray
seed of truth, borne on some breeze of accident into hearts the most
ignorant, has sprung up into fruit, whose abundance has shamed that of
higher and more skilful culture.

The poor mulatto woman, whose simple faith had been well-nigh crushed
and overwhelmed, by the avalanche of cruelty and wrong which had fallen
upon her, felt her soul raised up by the hymns and passages of Holy
Writ, which this lowly missionary breathed into her ear in intervals, as
they were going to and returning from work; and even the half-crazed
and wandering mind of Cassy was soothed and calmed by his simple and
unobtrusive influences.

Stung to madness and despair by the crushing agonies of a life, Cassy
had often resolved in her soul an hour of retribution, when her hand
should avenge on her oppressor all the injustice and cruelty to which
she had been witness, or which _she_ had in her own person suffered.

One night, after all in Tom's cabin were sunk in sleep, he was suddenly
aroused by seeing her face at the hole between the logs, that served for
a window. She made a silent gesture for him to come out.

Tom came out the door. It was between one and two o'clock at
night,--broad, calm, still moonlight. Tom remarked, as the light of
the moon fell upon Cassy's large, black eyes, that there was a wild and
peculiar glare in them, unlike their wonted fixed despair.

"Come here, Father Tom," she said, laying her small hand on his wrist,
and drawing him forward with a force as if the hand were of steel; "come
here,--I've news for you."

"What, Misse Cassy?" said Tom, anxiously.

"Tom, wouldn't you like your liberty?"

"I shall have it, Misse, in God's time," said Tom. "Ay, but you may have
it tonight," said Cassy, with a flash of sudden energy. "Come on."

Tom hesitated.

"Come!" said she, in a whisper, fixing her black eyes on him. "Come
along! He's asleep--sound. I put enough into his brandy to keep him so.
I wish I'd had more,--I shouldn't have wanted you. But come, the back
door is unlocked; there's an axe there, I put it there,--his room door
is open; I'll show you the way. I'd a do